


A Kiss By The Hills

by Canchuon



Series: HashiMada [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Multi Chapter, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Still writing this instead of sleeping, Warring States Period (Naruto), holy shit the more i write for this, pure fluff, someone save me, the sappier it gets, welp not anymore, young hashimada
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canchuon/pseuds/Canchuon
Summary: The air felt heavy. Hashirama needed to do or say something as soon as possible but his nerves had him frozen on the spot. He was so desperately carding through his thoughts when Madara leaned forward and closed the distance between them.A series of drabbles that take place during the same storyline, pretty much.Chapter 9: Hashirama expects to hear something positive about his looks from Madara
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: HashiMada [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689580
Comments: 112
Kudos: 244





	1. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air felt heavy. Hashirama needed to do or say something as soon as possible but his nerves had him frozen on the spot. He was so desperately carding through his thoughts when Madara leaned forward and closed the distance between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spent the whole night writing this but I just needed some sweet first smooches. Enjoy!
> 
> Now with a lovely piece of Art by [@silly_hyena](https://twitter.com/silly_hyena)  
> Please check their lovely art on Twitter and don't forget to follow them!

Madara was really pretty. Not pretty like how girls were, with their smooth faces and their curved waists. He was simply pretty, in his own Madara way. 

Hashirama stared at his currently closed eyelids and relaxed features. He truly appreciated these calm moments when they could just lie down on the grass and enjoy each other's silent company.

His eyes traced over the short bridge of Madara's nose all the way up to his lush eyelashes. They were long, pitch dark as his hair and framed the natural slanted shape of his eyelids in a perfectly alluring way. In a sudden beat, one of his fingertips reached up and swiped his lash line with a quick movement. 

"That tickles," Madara grumbled, a fist coming to scratch at the abused area.

Hashirama hummed and resumed his exploration of the other boy's face with which he was so thoroughly entranced by. Having his face this close to his searching eyes, Hashirama couldn't miss the opportunity to appreciate every single detail that made Madara so nice to look at. 

The tone of his skin was so light that whenever he got embarrassed it was almost possible to discern every single drop of blood pooling under his flesh. 

His jawline was soft yet sharp where it met his small ears and his chin rather thin and pointy.

Then there were his lips. The lower one was slightly plumper than the upper one which always seemed to disappear when he smiled. Hashirama's eyes always lingered on them whenever he did so.

He sighed. Lately, he'd been wondering what it would feel like to kiss Madara. 

Would his lips feel dry and chapped? Or would they be plush and warm? He wanted to at least reach down and pinch them between his fingertips. 

The craziest thought raced to his mind as he watched and Hashirama felt his heart flip excitedly against his ribs.

If he just bent his head down a tiny bit he could press his mouth to Madara's into a kiss. A wave of anxiety settled on the pit of his stomach and he shivered. Wouldn't that be sort of like cheating? Madara was unaware, with his guard low and his eyes sealed shut. 

"What is it?" Cracking one eye open, Madara asked. 

Hashirama almost jumped on his spot. Had Madara somehow read his thoughts just now? Had he caught him thinking weird things? 

His breath stuttered and he yanked himself up into a sitting position, feeling rather ashamed, "No-nothing!” 

Shrugging his shoulders, Madara shifted to gaze at the clouds above them. 

"Um, hey… Have you ever kissed someone?” 

Madara arched one eyebrow at him, taken aback by the odd question. The small action rapidly sent a rush of self-consciousness coursing through Hashirama's body that showed on his round cheeks as a maddening blush.

“No, but a girl tried to steal one from me once. I pushed her away before she could, though,”

“I see…” Hashirama bit his tongue, not wanting to admit how relief washed over him after hearing that. 

A rather awkward silence draped upon them and he could tell Madara was getting embarrassed about the topic but couldn't exactly pinpoint as to why. 

"So… Have you?” 

“Err… No,” 

“That's good,” Madara mumbled, composed and sure of himself at first until he realized Hashirama had heard him, “I-I mean… You- what I meant was-!” 

Hashirama chuckled and watched as Madara hastily shuffled onto his knees, he tended to frown when he got flustered and to Hashirama that was the cutest thing ever. 

“What I meant was- That's something you should do with someone you actually like!” Madara eventually managed to bark out after a series of nonsensical sputtering. 

Glancing at the ground, Hashirama pulled at the grass between his fidgeting fingers and smiled, a timid but charming curl of his lips. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and prepared to say the one thing he didn't know he'd be saying when he got out of bed this morning, "Well… I like you," 

Feeling his face burst into flames, he dragged his eyes up to look at Madara. He gulped at how intensely he was staring at him, his eyes wide and cheeks the exact same shade of crimson as his own. 

"I… Hashirama, I…” 

Whatever Madara intended to say never made it out of his mouth. Instead, he shuffled around so he could sit right across from him and simply let their eyes lock. 

The air felt heavy. Hashirama needed to do or say something as soon as possible but his nerves had him frozen on the spot. He was so desperately carding through his thoughts when Madara leaned forward and closed the distance between them. 

His eyes fluttered blissfully shut the second he felt Madara's puckered lips press against the corner of his mouth. 

The sensation was out of the world. Nothing like what he had imagined all those nights ago in the safe confines of his room. It was hard to describe, he could only say his bones felt like melting snow on a sunny day and his chest like a sky full of fireworks. 

A dreamy sigh ripped from his lungs, unsteady and long. Anything could be going on around them and Hashirama couldn't bring himself to care. The only thing he cared about was how surprisingly gentle Madara's lips were.

He was about to lay a wobbly hand over Madara's when he decided to pull away and leave Hashirama craving for another kiss. How cruel. 

“That… wasn't so bad, right…” Madara stated and Hashirama could tell without looking that there was a sheepish grin on his face by the quiet tone of his voice. 

He nodded, overjoyed and still feeling like his limbs were melting. 

Another span of silence blossomed between them, not awkward and tense as before but amiable and comfortable. 

"Uh…" Madara leapt to his feet and glanced at the river just down the hill, "Wanna go for a swim?” 

That sounded like a great idea. Over the past five minutes, the temperature seemed to have gotten about ten degrees higher and Hashirama was burning up. 

He stood up as well, wriggled some torn grass from his hands and started running downhill, “Race you there!” 

“Hey, that's cheating!” Madara yelled but wasted no time on going after him. 

They laughed and stripped their light layers of clothing as they ran to the shore, leaving them carelessly scattered around the field. 

Bright beams of sunlight caressed their skin as they splashed each other with water on this unusually hot day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't know how to actually end it but then again, I didn't plan this at all, I just wanted some fluff lololo. 
> 
> Let me know if you see any mistakes. Hope you liked this!


	2. Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideas pop into my head and I can't resist the urge to write them.  
> Read the first part of this series so you can understand the details in this one. You'll like it I promisseee.
> 
> I bought a kg of red currants at the market and ate them all in one sitting, quarantine is making me faattt. That aside, here, have some more hashimada smooches.

Six months had passed since that late summer day by the hills.

Now, they were both fourteen years old, freshly turned last winter. Hashirama's hair hung just above his shoulders and he had grown a few centimetres taller than Madara. He still had the same dorky face as when they were twelve, though.

Their secret reunions continued steadily, nothing much had changed about them aside from how much more frequent they had become. They went from once a week to three or four times a week. It was inevitable, the two boys just couldn't get enough of each other.

After that first kiss, their relationship had changed slightly. To Madara, Hashirama was still his best friend but he knew he was more than that. He didn't know what to exactly call their relationship. It wasn't as formal as that of an engaged couple but it also wasn't as platonic as that of a simple pair of friends. Besides, giving Hashirama some sort of label felt… off. He was just Hashirama, the idiot boy he was insane for.

Madara looked at said idiot, who was currently going through the bunch of red currants they had picked earlier from a shrub after their walk through the mountains. 

“Here, I picked the bigger ones for you,” Hashirama offered with a kind smile. 

Madara couldn't help but smile back and accepted the currants with a hand. Tilting his head forward, he thanked him with a chaste kiss. 

Hashirama's face curled into that goofy way it always did whenever they kissed. It was cute. His round cheeks dusted pink and his eyes softened. 

They had shared plenty of kisses so far. Twenty-eight including that last peck. Madara was keeping track of every single one, he cherished them all. Kissing wasn't a frequent activity between them yet, so it was relatively special when it did happen. 

“So,” Madara started, then brought a few currants to his mouth, “Have you thought about what I told you the other day?”

Hashirama pushed a strand of hair behind his ear as he stared at the red stains littering the front of his hakama, “I'm not sure…If I'm gone for an entire day they will notice,” 

Madara wrinkled his nose. He knew who _they_ were. It was moments like these he cursed the fact Hashirama wasn't a member of his clan. 

“I really wanted to take you with me. It would've been fun,” Madara huffed and shoved the rest of the redcurrants into his mouth, making angry noises as he chewed. 

Hashirama replied with a downcast grin. Two days ago, Madara had told him he’d be going to the nearest civilian town to pick up some supplies for his family this upcoming week. Since it wasn’t a clan mission and he was going alone, he had asked Hashirama to come with him. As expected, Hashirama had marvelled at the idea of visiting and exploring a new place with Madara, it was exciting and he couldn’t stop imagining all the fun things they could do together. He had wanted so badly to say yes as he jumped around the riverbank and then go home to wait eagerly for the day to finally arrive. 

But then, the sudden realization that it would take more than only a couple of hours being away from home had hit him like a bucketful of cold water. Hashirama couldn’t afford his prolonged absence to raise suspicion from his father. In the long run, it wasn’t worthy, they were doing so well at not getting caught yet.

“It's alright,” Hashirama sighed, carefully wrapping his leftover berries with a piece of cloth, “I always have fun with you, no matter where we are at,” 

Feeling rather flattered, Madara breathed out the rest of his disillusionment through his nose and collapsed down onto the layer of dried leaves underneath him, a hard twig poked his head as he hit the ground, “Ow,” 

That little misshapen seemed to erase Hashirama's gloominess in an instant, the boy just enjoyed seeing him make a fool of himself. Hashirama chuckled and went down on his side to join him, plucking the twig from where it tangled in his messy hair and throwing it somewhere behind a rock. 

"Once we have our settlement, we'll do whatever we want,” Hashirama said, each word laced with his never-ending conviction, “Together,” 

“Yeah,” Madara agreed, eyes twinkling and hand searching to wrap around Hashirama's, “Together,”

* * *

Hashirama panted, his forehead was covered by sweat that dripped down to his collarbone and made thin strings of hair stick to the back of his neck. It was a particularly hot day, the air was heavy with humidity and the added physical exercise made it feel that much more stifling. 

“I win!” He cheered, throwing a fist in the air. 

“Tch,” Madara scoffed, already getting up from where he had landed on his back by Hashirama's final punch. He was holding his nose, trying not to wince as more pain blossomed from the spot he'd been hit. 

“Are you alright?” The action didn't go unnoticed by Hashirama and he was hovering over him in a second, concern painted on his features, “Oh, no! Did I break your nose!?” 

“I'm fine! Get off me!” Madara hissed, getting annoyed by Hashirama's dramatic outburst. He would've let him heal him if it had been one of those days when he would show up to meet him after a battle, sustaining an injury that needed actual attention. It was nice after all, having Hashirama's care and his soothing chakra ease his pain. But right now it was straight-up embarrassing. He'd lost a sparring match against him, his pride didn't need Hashirama playing mother hen on him. 

“I just wanna check on you!” Hashirama raised his voice, his fingers prying Madara's hand off his nose without succeeding. 

“I don't need you to!” Madara struggled against the intrusive hands trying to grab his face but Hashirama was not giving up, instead, he was only inching closer to him. The newly acquired closeness had his ears warming up. He could feel Hashirama's cool breath ghosting over his chin and the heat that emanated from his glistening face. He stared for a bit, perplexed. 

“You're so hard to deal with, I don't even know why I bother,” Hashirama grumbled, finally clasping Madara's cheeks between his two palms.

His short-lived distraction had been more than enough time for Hashirama to pull his arms aside and get a grip on him. He groaned in defeat. Not knowing where to set his eyes on without it being awkward, he opted to close them and let Hashirama twist his head side to side as he checked his throbbing nose.

Hashirama hummed, making sure everything was in its respective place. His nose was a bit red but not gravely injured or swollen. What a relief. 

"You're fine!“ He said, keeping his hold on the warm cheeks, “I'm sorry I hurt you,” 

“Whatever, let go of me now,” 

Smiling with a tint of playfulness, Hashirama squeezed Madara's cheeks together into a funny expression,"Now you look like a pufferfish,” he giggled. 

“ _Leggo Hashigramah!_ ” Madara spewed out, his features scrunched up in a way that made it hard for him to speak properly. 

Hashirama laughed at the boy's distorted expression and then loosened his grip, not letting go of him anytime soon, “You're cute,” 

Madara snorted and opened his eyes only to shoot him a death glare. 

“Hey, don't give me that look,” his thumbs stroked the flushed skin of Madara's cheekbones with slow, circular motions, all in an effort to ease his annoyance, “What can I do to make it up to you?” 

Startled, Madara looked away. The question had sounded a tad suggestive and their close position left nothing to the imagination, “Just…Get your dirty hands off me, you big idiot,” 

Hashirama's face took in a bright red shade, he dismissed the request and leaned his head closer, "Hey, um, say… would you like a, I dunno…”

Hashirama didn't need to assemble his stammered words for Madara to understand. He knew what he wanted, the way his sheepish eyes were glued to his lips was a clear indication of it. 

Anticipation had Madara's heart doing flips inside his chest. His eyes shut closed rather harshly the second the tip of their noses touched and he quickly muttered, “Just do it, airhead,” 

The words barely registered in Hashirama’s ears before he had sealed Madara's lips with his own, effectively silencing him from saying anything else. Madara wasted no time on returning the kiss. Bringing his hands up to curl around Hashirama’s wrists, he pulled his hands off his cheeks to twine them together into a tender hold. They both sighed in contentment, not daring to pull away just yet. 

Madara tasted somewhat salty. It must have been from the sweat that gathered on the gap between his nose and mouth and rolled down to his lips. Hashirama found it to be a delight. 

Madara pulled back slowly, leaving a dazed-looking Hashirama in front of him. He smiled and wiped his tingling lips on the rim of his sleeve, “Gross, you're all sweaty,” he pointed out but his words held no real meaning to them. 

Feeling too elated to take offence on the comment, Hashirama only chuckled and gave Madara's knuckles a tight squeeze. 

“Hashirama,”

“Mmm?” 

“My offer is still up in case you've changed your mind…” 

The quiet, hopeful tone in which the words had been said had Hashirama's mind snap out of its dreamy state. His head tilted sideways, a silent plea for Madara to elaborate further. 

“About coming to town with me,” 

“Oh… ” 

_Oh_ , indeed. A tug of guilt had his insides churning uncomfortably. Part of him couldn't believe how much Madara wanted him to come along, he was being so considerate and sweet and he was only letting him down.

“I really shouldn't…” His fingers went limp where they rested between Madara's, “When are you leaving?”

“In two days,”

“Soon, then…” 

It was agonizingly easy to see how crestfallen Hashirama felt about the situation. Madara didn't blame him, not in the slightest, it wasn't his fault they were in such a difficult position. Clans, wars, death and anything involved with that had been a horrible curse thrown upon them without the least bit of remorse. It was hard like this, caring for someone so much but not being able to have them as close as one wanted. 

Pulling on the hand still tucked between his, Madara got Hashirama's attention back and spoke softly when their eyes met, "Listen, I'll wait for you by the clearing downstream. I'm leaving at seven in the morning but I'll wait there for five minutes whether you plan on showing up or not,”

“I… No! I don't want you to-to… you don't have to wait, I won't—” 

“I mean it,” Madara cut him off, "Just think about it,” 

Hashirama's mouth opened and closed in a vain attempt to oppose his words. He looked unsure but ultimately gave up and nodded his head once. 

* * *

Dawn was breaking over the sky, and Hashirama watched as every corner of the room got mildly brighter. It was awfully quiet, still too early for anyone to be up and about. The only present sounds coming from miscellaneous night critters outside the walls. 

He wondered if Madara was already awake, wondered if he was getting ready for his trip right this instant while he laid on his futon with his night clothes still clinging to his body like a lazy cat. 

_Madara..._

Hashirama had gone to bed the night prior thinking about him, thinking about what he'd told him two days ago. In all honesty, Madara had been occupying a good part of his mind these past few days. 

Tobirama stirred beside him, heaving a soft sigh as he slept. Hashirama noticed he'd kicked his quilt off some time throughout the night, he reached for it and draped it over his body to keep him warm. 

Coming back to rest on his side, he slid his eyes closed in an effort to fall asleep again. It just _wasn't_ possible to go to town with Madara, not now. 

He bit his lip and tried not to think of him anymore by forcing himself to stay in bed. After what felt like hours, his consciousness appeared to finally be succumbing to sleep. He shifted into a more comfortable position and was ready to forget and give in to exhaustion when his curled fingers grazed the dyed silk adorning his left wrist. 

His eyes flung open right away.

He stared longingly at the bracelet Madara had made for him more than a year ago; his chest swelled at the memory. Even back then, Madara had shown to be an extraordinarily kind-hearted and loving person. That boy was truly a gift meant only for him and he decided right then, as he twirled the weaved silk hanging on his wrist, that he was going to get the most out of him. 

As quietly as he could manage, Hashirama got up and folded his bedding neatly, throwing careful glances at Tobirama's sleeping figure as he did so. 

It had gotten considerably brighter by the time he was sliding on a plain hippari, the first dim rays of light were now seeping through the screen doors. He could only pray it was early enough for him to make it to the designated meeting spot in time. 

“Brother?” 

Hashirama froze on his spot. That was definitely Tobirama's voice coming from behind him, still thick with sleep.

“Go back to sleep, it's still too early,”

“Where are you going?” 

Hashirama didn't turn around to answer him, knowing that if his little brother got a glimpse of his face he would know he was getting lied to. 

“I ran out of herbs to make tinctures with,” He whispered as he pulled open the wooden drawer where he kept his belongings, “I'm going to the town up north to buy some more,” 

There was a short lapse of silence then, Hashirama focused on keeping his breathing rate calm and posture serene. 

“Does father know?” 

That was the final straw. Hashirama had to get out of there. After fastening his pouch of money under his undershirt, he crawled to the door and looked at Tobirama who, despite the strangeness of the situation, looked a blink away from passing out again on the pillow. 

“If he asks tell him what I just told you, please,”

He lingered long enough to see the disapproving glance he got as a response before he scurried out and glided the door closed behind him. 

A breath he didn't notice he was holding made its way out of his mouth as a soundless sigh of relief. He didn't risk checking the time on an old analog clock just down the hall, in case his steps would make the wood creak under his feet, he darted for the front door instead. Not knowing what time it was, Hashirama rushed to the woods, hoping he could arrive on time. 

* * *

The humidity in the air had brought with it a dense blanket of fog that had everything around Madara blurred from his sight. He couldn't see clearly past the rows of trees two meters away from where he stood but he kept his eyes locked on the path where he knew Hashirama would have to appear from anyway. 

He tapped a foot on the ground and shivered when drops of fresh dew stuck to his toes. The birds gathered at the canopies continued chirping, the only sound keeping him company at such an early hour. 

Madara knew he had been waiting for longer than five minutes already. Either way, he couldn't bring himself to leave so soon. A feeling coming from deep inside his gut was telling him Hashirama would pop out from behind the bushes anytime now, full of energy and with a usual broad smile on his dopey face. He _had_ to wait, just a bit longer. 

And so he did. Leaning against a large boulder covered by moss, he watched the mist slowly thin down as the sun rose higher and time passed… and passed… 

Perhaps Hashirama wasn't coming after all. He scowled at himself. Hashirama had expressed his reluctance and what had he done? He had gone ahead and given himself high expectations knowing there was a huge chance Hashirama wouldn't show up. 

It was no use staying here any longer, he had to leave now. 

Madara picked up his bag from the damp ground and turned around, feeling frustrated at himself but above all, feeling unbearably sad. 

He began walking away from the clearing, trying to cheer himself up. It couldn't be that bad, he'd gone alone plenty of times before. There was no reason to be feeling all gloomy over practically nothing. He wasn't Hashirama, with his dumb and sudden depressed fi—

_MADARA!_

Coming to a halt, Madara looked back. 

Had he heard right? Was someone calling him? Could that be… He listened intently, not sure if he had heard his name being called out for real or if his mind was deceiving him into hearing what he wanted to hear. 

_MADARA!_

There it was again, much closer this time. That voice… It was definitely real and it was definitely Hashirama's, but he couldn't see where it was coming from, the fog hadn't dissipated yet.

“Madara!”

Within a second, Hashirama's silhouette was cutting through the fog and within the next one, he was being smothered by him with a quite literal breathtaking hug. 

He wrapped his arms around Hashirama’s waist and brought him closer, as if to prove himself he was not going delusional. Hashirama was without a doubt here with him, his silky hair tickling his ear and his warmth as comforting as ever. Madara's heart raced. 

“Madara, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have made you wait at all!” 

“You… You came!” 

Hashirama withdrew from the hug, enough to allow eye contact, “I really wanted to come, I want to be with you!” 

“Hashirama…” 

Hashirama was an expert at making him feel all sorts of gushy sensations by using the simplest of words. Madara figured it was because he always spoke from the heart, full of emotion, and he was terribly weak for it. He closed the scarce distance separating them and kissed him, a quick but gentle brush of lips. 

Hashirama's cheeks were glowing, he was radiating pure happiness and Madara could swear the young buds of a plum tree beside them bloomed beautifully. He smiled. 

“Let's get going, I've been here for far too long,” 

Hashirama nodded, following Madara's pace closely by his side. They chatted as they went, fading deep into the dense morning mist. 

Before Madara could forget, he made a small mental note. Thirty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was meant to be a drabble but it somehow became a monster chapter, I sWEar. Also, too lazy to read it over, if something makes your eyes bleed let me know in the comments ;)
> 
> Wash yo hands, frriends.


	3. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara and Hashirama sneak out again to another civilian town, this time they go to a hot spring and go as far as spending the night there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to keep away from writing long ass chapters.

“I can't believe we're really doing this,”

“I know, right? I'm gonna get an earful once I get back… Unless my parents kill me first,” 

“Don't say things like that… You'll make me worry,”

“Oh, shut up,” Madara threw a pillow at the unnecessary concerned expression on Hashirama's face, “Just get under the covers, I want to sleep,” 

“I'm serious,” Hashirama murmured, placing the pillow back on the futon but still refusing to lay down, “You know how much I ca—” 

“I know, I know,” Madara cut him off with a roll of his eyes and patted the empty spot beside him, “So get in now, yeah?” 

Hashirama pouted for a moment until Madara threatened to throw another pillow at him. He pulled the thick blanket —which he thought was too heavy to use for such warm weather— back and wriggled until he was laying closer to Madara's side. His eyes roamed around the room, appreciating the colourful paintings on the walls and the traditional decorations displayed over the only dresser offered for guests to use. It was a cheap but actually pretty decent ryokan, Madara didn't have such a foul taste after all.

“I really did think the owner wouldn't let us stay for the night,” Hashirama admitted while staring at the plain wooden ceiling. 

“All you gotta do is show them some money and they'll let you do whatever you want. Works like a charm,” 

Hashirama chuckled, remembering how the owner's face had lit up when Madara had given him a satchel full of money, “I guess you're right,” 

Madara smirked. It was comfortably quiet, the cicadas buzzing outside the room a calming white sound. 

Hashirama shifted to lay fully on his side, facing the other boy. Without even thinking twice, he wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his face onto his chest. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” Madara stammered and Hashirama grinned at how fast he could feel his heart beating against his cheek. 

“I wanna cuddle you,” Hashirama explained, “You smell nice,” 

He bit back a laugh at how stiff Madara had gone in his arms. It wasn't as if they hadn't embraced in the past, perhaps the setting was different now but in the end, it was still the same thing. Madara was such a prude. He could bet his entire savings that if he glanced up he'd find Madara's face overtaken by an intense blush. 

“Relax, I'm not doing anything,”

“What do you mean you're _not doing anything_!? You're sniffing me! That's so weird!”

“I'm not sniffing you!” Hashirama dug his nose into a strand of black hair right after saying that and inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent, “... Well, only a little,” 

“Ugh, you're such a creep, Hashirama!”

“If it bothers you that much I can go sleep on the other side of the ro–” 

“Wait, I never said that!” Madara nearly yelled as his arms rapidly came up to keep Hashirama still pressed against him.

Hashirama laughed, loving the way Madara was grumbling under his breath but maintaining a tight hold on him. He was only messing with him, he knew that deep down, Madara craved the physical affection between them as much as he did. 

He pressed a tentative kiss to the side of Madara’s neck and smiled at how he trembled at the contact. The skin there was supple and warm, the perfect spot to nuzzle.

“You’re a bad influence,” Hashirama giggled, “Dragging me to unknown places, away from my home,” 

Madara snorted, a hand brushing brown locks of hair soothingly, “Don’t play dumb, you love it,”

Snuggling even closer to Madara, Hashirama cracked another tiny laugh and closed his eyes. He listened to his breathing even out, the soft rise and fall of his chest gradually lulling him to sleep. Yes, indeed. He loved it. He loved everything about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're so in love you can't change my mind.


	4. I Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions that bring about a flustered Madara and a sulking Hashirama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao this is nothing close to what I originally wanted to write.... Kill me, pls.

“Ah! I really am tired,” Madara sprawled himself over the long grass of the hill, closing his eyes as he stretched out his limbs, “I feel like doing nothing today,”

“I'm fine with that,” Hashirama caressed tresses of dark hair off Madara's eyes, wanting to see his lush eyelashes, “But it only proves you're a lazy bum,” 

“Hush, Hashirama,”

Hashirama withdrew his hand at the scowl he got in exchange for his touch. With a weary sigh, he yanked himself down as well. He took the opportunity to stare at the boy beside him, Madara was undeniably a beautiful person, in both appearance and personality. He relished in every little detail he’d discovered in his character so far, from the light creases at the inner corners of his eyes to the way his voice would crack when he spoke loudly.

“I really like you,” Hashirama blurted out with just the right amount of admiration in his tone.

Madara didn’t bother to reply, simply grunted and twisted his head to face the opposite side.

“What?” Hashirama smirked, “Are you shy now?”

Madara scoffed then spoke in that feigned composed voice he used when he was feeling flustered, “You wish, stop saying stupid things,” 

A playful chuckle spilled out of Hashirama's mouth, the urge to get a glimpse at the other boy's embarrassed frown had a dopey grin stretch over his face. He knew without having to see that it was there, wrinkling Madara's features.

“Do you like me back? Mmh? Madara?” 

“No,” Madara hissed without hesitating, “'Cause you're annoying,” 

Hashirama poked his ribs in retaliation for the rude comment, aware he was ticklish in that specific area, “I know you don't mean that, you're just embarrassed,” 

“I'm not! I'm tired, didn't you hear me say it?” 

“Alright,” Hashirama said before latching his arms and legs around Madara's midriff and thighs respectively, caging him inside some sort of human trap, “Let's take a nap together then,” 

Embracing Madara was one of the few wonders Hashirama had found in this murky world, like coming across a piece of gold hidden between piles of coal. His body was soothingly warm and the way he could feel his heart so close to him drenched his soul with a blissful sensation of calmness. 

However, Madara didn't seem to share the same sentiment. At least not today. 

“You're so clingy,” Madara squirmed his way out of Hashirama's hold, pushing him away, “I'm right beside you, isn't that enough?”

“Oh… I... I guess so…” Hashirama shifted onto his other side, not trying to hide the pain plaguing his face from the other as he furled into himself the exact same way worms did when they were poked by sticks. 

Knowing what was coming his way, Madara rolled his eyes. A sulking Hashirama was the last thing he wanted to experience today, he was just too tired to deal with it. 

“Stop that! Don't get all depressed over nothing!”

A quiet mumble came out of the bundle of self pity that was Hashirama, “You've hurt my feelings,” 

“Uh, I..,” Madara struggled finding his words, but only because some guilt was beginning to crawl up his neck. He didn't like being the cause for Hashirama's upset moods, “Sorry, I guess… I kinda let out my stress on you,” 

“I understand. I know you have a hard a time acknowledging your feelings. It must be awful, being so stubborn you can't even deal with your own emotions, I'm lucky I'm not like you at–” 

“Hey don't turn this on me now! You're the one dealing with emotional problems!” Madara sighed after yelling, it was no use raising his voice to Hashirama's antics. Maybe that bad habit of his would never change. 

“And just for the record...” 

The silence that followed Madara's words spoke volumes. He seemed to always need a few moments before confessing things that could harm his pride in any way. Hashirama had let him know that there was nothing shameful about expressing one's feelings but he refuted such claims, opting to keep everything bottled up inside him. 

“I, um, I like you too… But you already knew that so why are you asking!” The last sputtered words came out as a rushed angry complaint. It was nowhere near pleasant to the ears but for Hashirama that was the sweetest declaration he'd ever heard. He was weird that way, he supposed. 

Hashirama's eyes followed a butterfly passing through the long, dry stems of grass brushing his nose. It was a rare species. A knowing smile quirked his lips up. Madara was too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why am I posting this at one am


	5. Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl confesses her feelings for Madara and he is not impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bad at writing summarys?? like I honestly considered writing down "Madara and gay panic" 
> 
> Btw I wrote this in sections so I'm sorry if events don't fit in lolz.

Summer festivities felt as if they had come faster than in previous years. It perhaps felt that way since Madara had been busy helping out with the arrangements since spring set upon. 

Painted paper lanterns had been put out by every single household's front door to light up and decorate every road in the compound. Women had prepared considerable amounts of sweets and treats since harvests this spring had been abundant. Kids of every age were planning on what activities they'd be doing when the date for the festival finally arrived and plenty of girls had spent hours inside their crafting hut making jewelry of all sorts to sell or give out as presents that day. Ultimately, it was all coming together perfectly. 

Madara enjoyed the festival, it was a great opportunity to have fun with other kids his age instead of the usual clashing of swords during training. Izuna fervently looked forward to these events every year as well.

Last year, the festival had to be cancelled since a drought had their crops die out and the food supply had been scarce. Poor Izuna, he'd been heartbroken about that terrible tragedy. So once he had gotten word that it was going to happen this year, he'd been static about it and had offered to help just as much as Madara had. It was nice, seeing his little brother so happy and enthusiastic because, well, he deserved it. He deserved to have all the fun he wanted to. 

* * *

The festival had arrived at last. Madara along with his brother were both wearing the navy blue yukata their mother had sewn together for them. It was comfortable, the ideal attire to be dressed in to keep fresh as they ran around the main road, visiting relatives and the stalls people had put outside their homes. 

An aunt of his had given him and his brother a large pile of sparklers. Izuna, being the hyperactive boy he was, had lit them all up at the same time while Madara kept his unlit and saved them for later. He knew that once night settled, Izuna would be asking to get some more. 

The sun was about to set when a bunch of cousins and some friends had started a bonfire somewhere close to the woods and invited them to join in. Madara accepted the invitation and went to sit down on a rotten log, feeling stuffed from all the tasty food he'd eaten throughout the day. Izuna, on the other hand, scampered away with his friends to compare the prizes they'd gotten from playing games. 

“Want some buckwheat tea?” Yoshio, a boy he often hung out with offered, stretching a bamboo cup out for him.

Shaking his head, Madara refused the drink, feeling about a sip away from throwing up all the things he’d eaten.

Across the bright, red flames he noticed Shokko and his cousin Azumi whispering to another pair of girls. He recognized the girls as Kasumi and Hisako, their mother was a good friend of his mother and had come over to their place a few times for tea. He couldn’t say he was familiar with them but at least knew them from a distance. He let his eyes linger over them for a while since they were all sneaking glances in his direction and giggling every now and then. He felt rather intrigued but looked away before they could catch him observing them. They were probably just gossiping, nothing to care about.

He turned to Yoshio, who had apparently been telling him something but he’d missed every single word he’d said. He bobbed his head, pretending he had listened to his story. A glint coming from the front of Yoshio's shirt caught his attention and he took that as an opportunity to smoothly change the subject. 

“When did you get that?” Madara asked, pointing his chin at the shiny necklace around the other's neck.

Yoshio puffed his chest out to show off the pendant proudly, a giant smug smirk plastered on his face, “Ayame gave it to me two days ago,” 

“I see… it's nice, I guess,”

“I know! I never thought she'd be into me. I've always liked her, she's so pretty and I honestly thought I was way out of her interests,”

Madara hummed, not fully understanding why Yoshio looked as if his entire life had been fulfilled only because he'd gotten some girl's attention. Besides, Ayame wasn't even that appealing. She was a rather boring girl, with droopy eyelids and a voice so high pitched and lazy that he was sure could put a bunch of babies to sleep. Madara didn't find her to be pretty at all. In fact, he didn't find girls to be attractive in any way. Never, ever in his life had he felt the slightest attraction toward them; be them any age, shape or colour. 

“So, is there someone you like?” Yoshio asked, then leaned close to his ear as if to tell him a secret, “Naoko is quite charming, she'd make a good match for you,”

Madara made a face at the name. He did have someone he fancied and that girl was definitely not that person, “Uh… not really,” 

“She’s fun to be around, you should consider courting her,”

“... Right,” 

Madara wondered why teenagers his age seemed to only care to talk about those sorts of things, it was lame and a nuisance and not even worth his time. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Madara noticed Kasumi had stood up and walked somewhere away, the other three girls remained sitting, whispering to each other’s ears. He frowned when Shokko motioned with a hand for him to come close; reluctantly, he walked over to the girls.

“Looking handsome tonight, Madara-kun,” Shokko chirped, playfulness glinting in her dark eyes. 

Madara knitted his brows and folded his arms in front of him, “What do you want?” 

“There’s no need to be so cranky, we’re all having fun aren’t we?” Azumi replied, smiling deviously.

They all wore treacherous looks on their painted faces as if they knew something he didn’t, and Madara couldn't help but feel a tad agitated.

“If you don’t want anything then there’s no need for me to be here,” he said, unfolding his arms, ready to start walking in the opposite direction. 

“Wait!” All three girls yelped in unison and Madara turned back again to face them with a huff. 

“Just tell me what it is you want!” He groaned out.

“Fine, fine! You’re no fun, Madara,” Azumi said, trying to placate the impatient boy, “It’s not really about us, it's actually about Kasumi,” 

Madara quirked an eyebrow at that. What could she possibly want from him? He was sure he hadn't even shared a word with her in the past. 

“She said she had something important to tell you,”

“She's waiting for you by that willow tree over there,” Hisako pointed the paper fan she was holding in the direction of said tree. 

Madara hesitated. He would rather go fetch his brother so they could light up the sparklers he had saved somewhere inside his obi instead of figuring out what a girl he barely knew of wanted to tell him. 

“Go on! It’s rude leaving someone waiting,” Shokko urged him in with a wink. Madara drew in a short breath through his mouth and sighed. Whatever, he’d make it quick. 

He arrived swiftly at the tree, the spot was fairly secluded and away from the crackling bonfire, its draping branches were hiding Kasumi who stood close to the thick trunk. He said nothing, hoping his presence would be enough of a greeting.

Kasumi pushed a strand of hair timidly behind her ear and Madara watched, curious about what she so wanted to tell him.

“Madara-kun, I– I really like you. Would you please… accept this gift?” she said, her head lowered as she presented a handmade necklace to Madara.

His eyes narrowed and he inspected the necklace being offered. It was a pendant of the Uchiha crest, carved on a piece of wood, painted with its designated usual colours. It was accompanied by two round pieces of obsidian on each side and hanging from a braided string of fine, dark leather. 

One of his hands came up to lay on his chest, cupping the turquoise resting against his skin, hidden by his robe, “I can’t accept that. Sorry,” he said, his words sharp and uninterested. 

Kasumi’s head lowered even more so, not as to show respect anymore but in a display of hurt. Ugh, if she started crying, Madara was _so_ out of here. 

“Eh… I’m sure there’s someone else who will take it,” he tried consoling her, not because he cared about her feelings but because he just wanted to avoid the drama show that would most likely ensue.

She stayed quiet but moved in closer and gave him a dull smile. 

Madara was now feeling trapped and very uncomfortable. He needed to get out of here. His eyes roamed around, anxiously looking for an excuse to leave, “If you don’t mind, I gotta go now…”

“Wait!” Kasumi said, her features contorting into a desperate grimace.

“What is it now?” Madara huffed, he wanted none of it so he twisted his head to look somewhere else but her face. 

His train of thought diverted to Hashirama —as it often did— when she wouldn’t say anything. He thought about buying him a souvenir from the festival, a small, subtle thing would do. Hashirama always gave him little presents whenever they saw each other, quite the romantic type he was. They were all random, ranging from short written poems to found broken shells. However, they all held a whole lot of value to Madara and he kept them all, hidden inside an old tobacco tin box he'd taken from his father. He smiled to himself, remembering the bunch of blue _forget-me-nots_ Hashirama had given him last time, they were on top of a cabinet in his room, kept alive in a tiny porcelain vase full of water.

He was so immersed in the Hashirama of his memories that he didn't notice Kasumi had been staring at him for a while now. And he was most certainly not in his five senses for he never foresaw the moment she grasped both his wrists and pulled him against her. He had been so oblivious to the situation going on with the girl that he was now paying for it by getting kissed. Sloppily. On the mouth.

It lasted no longer than two seconds. Madara regained his composure the moment he felt her insipid lips on him, fueled back to reality by nothing but pure disgust. He harshly ripped his arms from her grip and used the momentum to push her away, sending her stumbling a few strides back until she landed on her rear. 

“Why did you do that!? I just said I don't like you!” Madara yelled, he'd never felt so infuriated by something so trivial before, but it had felt so wrong in so many ways. 

Her touch still lingered on his skin and he wanted to scratch at it until he bled. His stomach hadn't fluttered the same way it did whenever Hashirama kissed him; instead, it had made the blood running through his veins boil with what could only be fury. 

He didn't want to think of Hashirama right now. An image of a hurt and disappointed Hashirama flashing by his head had his heart aching. Shit. He had messed up badly, hadn't he? 

To say that Kasumi was scared was an understatement. She looked downright terrified and on the verge of panicking. 

“I–I–I'm so–I didn’t mean to-” She stuttered from where she laid on the ground, her voice giving out on her at the end, cracking the last syllable.

“Shut up!” Madara shouted and tears streamed down her reddened cheeks. He didn't care, he felt just as bad, if not worse. He really wanted to smack her across the face. Anything to help alleviate the rage bubbling in his gut. 

Kasumi sobbed but tried speaking again, “I– ”

“I don't like girls!” Madara spat out, too hazed by his anger, not measuring the weight of his words nor the insinuation behind them. 

Kasumi gaped at him. Her sobbing stopped and she blinked. Tears still smeared her face but she looked more perplexed than scared. 

Now Madara wanted to smack himself. She was now surely going to go and tell all her friends about what had happened between them, every single small detail. He was not going to live this down. 

“Just forget I–” he groaned and curled his fists tightly, “Don't tell anybody what just happened,” 

Wiping her nose, Kasumi nodded, a weak bobbing motion. Barely noticeable. 

He shot one last disdainful glance at her and walked away, leaving her on the ground, ashamed and rejected.

Taking a detour behind the trees, Madara avoided the clusters of people on the streets. He moved at a fast pace, going straight for his house, he had no desire to stay longer at the festival. 

Slowly, the once scorching anger boiling inside him was morphing into a pang of unbearable guilt that weighed heavily over his shoulders. He should’ve been more alert, that way he could have avoided kissing Kasumi. He felt gross… What would Hashirama say? The thought of not telling him about what had happened crossed his mind, and he considered it to be a good idea for a second until he realized guilt would only chew him alive. He _had_ to tell Hashirama and then ask for forgiveness. 

He was scarce meters away from his home when he saw Izuna running toward him. He had a colourful mask resting on top of his head, proof he was without a doubt having the time of his life.

“Let’s go get more sparklers from aunt and uncle!” Izuna pulled on his sleeve, his childish features bright and happy, an enormous contrast to what Madara probably looked like. 

Madara pulled his sparklers out and handed them to his brother, who accepted them with sheer enthusiasm, “Go have fun with your friends,” he said quietly, then brushed past him, following the road. 

“Why won’t you come?” 

“I’m going home,” 

“Why? Are you feeling sick?” Izuna called out from behind, sounding sincerely concerned and Madara hated himself for spoiling his fun.

He stopped on his tracks, his entire posture slumping over, “Yeah,” he replied over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at his brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I missed Hashirama boi this chapptrrrrr!
> 
> Again with the long ass chapters, hope you enjoyed it anyways.


	6. Cosmos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama and Madara hang out in the forest, picking wild mushrooms and random plants. They're having a jolly time but there's still a small thing nagging at the back of Madara's consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back with another long ass chapter. I personally don't enjoy these ones as much cause English is not my first language and I end up running out of words to type down and then I feel frustrated at my repetitive writing. I hope you find it enjoyable either way. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind comments in the last chapter! Big THANK YOU to [@silly_hyena](https://twitter.com/silly_hyena) for giving me amazing feedback and drawing a beautiful piece of art out of a part on the first chapter <3 you can see it in chapter one or [here](https://twitter.com/silly_hyena/status/1264721942617219075) . They have such gorgeous art and it honestly inspires me so much, so go check their profile on Twitter or [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/cosmic_hyena/) :))))

Madara's widened eyes followed Hashirama's muddy fingers as they dug through the soil, mildly intrigued about what he was looking for so deep in the earth. He'd said something about truffles but he had no clue about what those were. 

“Did you find any?” Madara asked from where he was kneeling beside the other boy, a bamboo basket nestled on his lap. 

“Nope, but I found a bunch of oyster mushrooms!” Hashirama grinned and blew off some of the dirt clusters covering the stems of the mushrooms before handing them to him. Madara set them gently inside the basket, along with all the other mushrooms Hashirama had collected throughout the morning. 

“What are those truffle things anyway?” 

“They're like a type of wild mushroom. But it's hard to find them, they grow underground by tree roots,” 

“I've never seen them before,” 

“I’ll show you them…” Hashirama scratched his cheek, leaving some grime behind on the skin there, “Well, only if I manage to find one,”

Madara could only stare in awe as Hashirama went back to moving damp soil and rotten leaves around the forest ground. He knew a lot about its green vegetation and could tell the name of every single plant or tree Madara pointed at without even doubting for a second. It was impressive, Madara thought, compared to what little he knew about the topic. 

“So what are you going to do with all these?” He asked curiously, lifting the basket for emphasis. 

“Eat them,” Hashirama explained, bringing a small white mushroom he’d just plucked from a log to his lips, “Like this!” he said before chomping the thing whole.

“That’s so gross!” Madara choked on a laugh, the sound somewhere between amused and scandalized, “Are you a boar or something?” He huffed out between chuckles, bumping Hashirama’s forearm with a playful fist.

“These are safe to eat raw,” Hashirama giggled, wiping another mushroom on his sleeve before offering it to Madara, “Try it,” 

“No way! I don't wanna get sick from it,” Madara pushed the muddy hand away, chuckling as he did so. 

“Your loss, they're a delicacy,” Hashirama shrugged his shoulders, looking amused as he dropped a handful of the tiny, white mushrooms inside the basket. It was nearly full with today’s harvest.

It didn’t take long before Hashirama picked the last group of mushrooms, all done while he explained every single detail about how and where to find them as well as going as far as telling Madara the names and varieties every single mushroom belonged to. He had looked so ecstatic as he talked, with his brown eyes twinkling and lips curved up into a contended grin, the mud caking his cheeks an added endearing touch. Perhaps Madara didn’t understand every single word that had come out of his mouth but he was certain he could listen to Hashirama talk nonstop about mushrooms all day without growing tired of it. It was a sight that made his heart pump nothing but sheer bliss through his veins. 

* * *

They walked out of the forest, side by side and full basket hanging from Hashirama’s back, stopping every now and then as Hashirama bent down to pick what Madara could call random plants. 

“Are you going to eat those as well?” Madara asked with a smirk. 

Hashirama blinked a few times, then laughed heartily, the sound echoing against the thick tree trunks. Whenever Madara heard that dorky laugh he couldn't help but let out a laugh of his own. 

“Of course not! I mean, I could but they’re not tasty,” 

“So what’re they for?” Madara asked. He could guess they were for the medicine things Hashirama made, it wasn’t the first time they had collected herbs together and they always held the same purpose.

“To make medicines,” Hashirama confirmed and raised the hand where he kept the bunch of different plants and flowers, “These ones here are hamamelis. Don’t you remember them?” Hashirama pointed at the long stems with curly yellow petals on the very top. Madara nodded, recalling the ointment Hashirama had made with that specific flower and then given to him so he could heal his younger brother's cuts and burns a while ago. 

“These here are thistles, the pink ones are called echinacea, these little ones are chamomile, and these green leaves are lemon balm,” Hashirama pointed out as he named each plant and Madara followed attentively.

He noticed Hashirama had skipped over three flowers. The petals were a deep scarlet shade with a darkened middle so they were rather hard to overlook.

“What are those red ones for?” Madara asked, signalling with a vague finger. 

“Uh, these are cosmos,” Hashirama twirled the thin green stems between his fingertips, then offered the flowers to Madara with a timid curl of his lips, “They’re for you,” 

A broad smile broke over Madara’s face and he accepted the cosmos at once, his fingers brushing Hashirama’s muddy ones, feeling as if his lungs would suffocate with all the warmth coursing through his body at the simple touch, “Thanks,” he said, getting a soft hum as a reply. 

He stared fondly at the flowers now held securely in his hand. Surprisingly enough, they seemed to have turned several shades redder. They were lovely. 

With his free hand, he picked the one with the bigger petals and using his thumb and forefinger cut its rather long stem a tad shorter. He glanced up at Hashirama and pushed a lustrous strand of his brown hair behind his ear, keeping it in place with the cosmos. Hashirama beamed at him, as bright as daylight.

* * *

They reached a creek on the outskirts of the woods where the water ran clear and cool. There they cleaned up all the dry mud glued to their clothes and skin, occasionally splashing water at each other’s faces. Laughing out loud when Hashirama slipped off the rock he was holding himself on and pretty much fell face flat inside the shallow water. 

After calming down from the unexpected incident, they sat down to dry out their damp clothes under the vast canopy of a ginkgo tree, chatting about nothing in particular as the leaves above them rustled with the soothing afternoon breeze. 

It was all going well until Hashirama had the brilliant idea of bringing up his clan’s festival as a topic for small talk. 

“How was that festival you talked to me about before? Did you have fun?” 

Hashirama’s questions held nothing but innocent intention and Madara was fully aware of that but still felt like he had done it on purpose since he didn’t want to talk about what had happened that day, at least not yet.

“It was alright. I mean… It was fun, really,” Madara said lamely, biting his tongue right after. 

Hashirama shot him an uneasy look and Madara twisted his head to the opposite side with such force a vertebra somewhere in his neck popped with the movement. Darn Hashirama, could always see right through him. 

“What's wrong? You know you can talk to me,” Hashirama reassured him, laying a comforting palm over his knee.

The touch felt way too sweet and Madara couldn't tolerate it, so he stood up abruptly and gazed at the fallen leaves spinning over the stream's surface to try to compose himself a bit.

“There’s something I have to tell you. Something that happened at the festival...”

With a huff, Hashirama jumped to stand on his feet, “Sure, what is it?”

Madara kicked at the loose soil under his feet, feeling so utterly ashamed for what he was about to say, “Um, I… I kissed someone else…”

A second, two, three passed before Hashirama said something. 

“Oh… I see...” 

Madara didn’t need to lift his eyes up to see the sadness he was sure was now pulling down Hashirama's lively spirit. 

The lack of words was beginning to weight over him, he wanted nothing but to speak again and clear everything out but the fear of saying the wrong thing was holding him back.

“… So what happened?” Hashirama finally cut the thick silence and Madara blew a shaky sigh through his nose before answering. 

“It was all some stupid girl's fault… She confessed having feelings for me so I turned her down but then she caught me off guard and kissed me…”

He made out of the corner of his eye that Hashirama had turned to face him, his gaze felt as if it was drilling holes into him. He shivered. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen…” Madara added in a low tone. 

He took a chance and stole a quick glance at Hashirama's face, expecting to find him on the verge of crying his eyes out or something pitiful of the sort. He even expected to be met by an angry set of eyes but neither options were unfolding. 

Hashirama simply stared blankly at him for an uncomfortable long period of time, making him fidget on his spot. 

Madara was about to break him out of his trance when a sudden boisterous laugh bubbled its way out of Hashirama's mouth. 

“You really are dense sometimes,” Hashirama said before his voice cracked into a laugh, rubbing some tears off his crinkled eyes, “It’s not like you kissed her because you wanted to, she just stole a kiss from you because you're a big dummy,” 

Madara scowled, obviously annoyed about getting laughed at but opted to hold back the snide replies that rushed to his head. He guessed he deserved that much. 

“Of course I didn't want to kiss her!” Madara clicked his tongue, “Why would I? I don't even like her to begin with,” 

Pouting, he waited until Hashirama's laughter died down, the previously nagging guilt washing away at the small grin Hashirama gave him once the atmosphere went quiet around them. It appeared everything was resolved, at last. 

Or at least that was what Madara thought. 

Out of nowhere, a disgruntled frown wrinkled Hashirama's brow and two of his fingers came up to flick the spot right between his eyebrows with painful precision. 

"Ow! What was that for!?” Madara yelped as he rubbed at the sore spot on his forehead, where he was sure a red bruise was coming to life. 

“You deserve it, for making me think you… you… didn't like me anymore!” 

“No! I – I could never, I – you..– You're special to me!”

The gloomy frown taking over Hashirama's face melted into a pleased grin at the honest, heartfelt words. The tinge of desperation drawn on Madara's features urged him to throw his arms around his neck in less than a second, knocking them both over to the ground. 

“Madara!” Hashirama squealed from where he was lying on top of the other boy, holding tightly onto him as if the earth below them would seize him away at any given time, “You're my special person, too!” 

It wasn't possible to hold back the heat that began to crawl up from within Madara's chest, not when Hashirama was this close to him and blurting out such mushy things, “You're crushing me, you big oaf!” he croaked out.

Hashirama pulled back a bit, only to give him that one joyful smile he had reserved only for him. The one that made Madara's entire being tremble. But certainly, nothing could compare to the moment when Hashirama craned his neck down again and kissed him tenderly. 

Hashirama's kisses were always so warm that it felt as if they seared an imprint not only over his lips but on his very soul as well. He smiled at Hashirama's glowing blush when they broke apart, feeling just as equally flushed and happy. 

Gingerly, he brought a few digits to press lightly over his mouth. The faint, fresh taste of wild mushrooms lingering on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add the bit with the cosmos flowers because I found this on google and couldn't help myself cause I'm one big sap:  
> -Cosmos flower represents peace and order in the first place, but it also carries romantic meaning as it tells your partner that the two of you will walk together through life, hand in hand.
> 
> I cry, I cry.....


	7. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama marvels at a new way of showing affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or the chapter in which the boys make out for the first time lmaoooo.  
> Honestly, how do 100 words become 1,000... it's an enigma....
> 
> Aaah, didn't y'all just loved going through puberty?? all the awkwardness going on during those days... I hated it.
> 
> For [@silly_hyena](https://twitter.com/silly_hyena) who helped me overcome my utter embarrassment about posting this. You're in my heart gurl 💘

It had been about a week or two ago when Madara had gone ahead and licked his lips while they shared some chaste kisses. Perhaps he'd only done it to be fun, nothing but a simple playful deed. But the action had been a surprise for Hashirama, and it had made every drop of his blood simmer and his entire face redden. 

As a result, he had spent days lost in the sensation of Madara's slick tongue over his lips, lost on his taste that was so reminiscent of roasted seaweed. It had even gone as far as to make him dream about it a couple of times. The shameful type of dreams that resulted in him waking up at random late hours of the night, covered by a sheen of cool sweat and feeling uncomfortably damp and sticky between his thighs. 

His desire to relive that one ephemeral experience was great enough to almost be considered absurd. If only he could build the courage to return the gesture and get what he so wanted. There was another approach, however, if he asked Madara to do it again there was a chance he would comply. 

The dilemma bounced back and forth inside his head, he could either do it himself or ask for it. 

It seemed like now was the best time to at least do something about it. The day was quiet, uneventful, and Madara was doing nothing, just resting his head lazily over Hashirama's shoulder, staring at whatever creature happened to pass by the riverbank.

Drawing imaginary circles over his thigh with the tip of a finger, Hashirama prepared himself to go for the second option; to ask Madara to kiss him just like he had done that one time. 

“Madara?” Hashirama winced right after speaking, wanting to rip his throat off for breaking his voice in the middle of saying such a short word. 

“Mh?” 

Good. He didn't seem to have noticed, or maybe he did but couldn't bring himself to care what Hashirama sounded like today. 

“Um. Can I ask you something?”

“Mm, sure, whatever,” 

“Do you, uh, remember the last time you kissed me?” Hashirama asked and was beyond grateful for the hand Madara brought to link around his own, it being the only thing anchoring him to the current situation. 

“... Yeah, I think so. What about it?” 

“Would you kiss me…? The same way you did back then?” 

Anticipation began to build at the pit of his stomach when Madara shifted away from where he was draped against his side. Hashirama's eyes slid shut even before he had locked their lips together into an easy kiss. It started sweet and innocent, and it pleased Hashirama to no end, the exact same way as all those times before. All he could do for now was kiss back and wait until Madara used his tongue again. 

Unfortunately, all hope crumbled down the moment Madara pulled away and didn't return.

Hashirama tightened his fingers around Madara's palm a bit too harshly. That was definitely  _ not _ what he had asked for. He wanted to whine his disappointment out into the open, loud and clear so every living being would hear just how dejected he was. Madara had fooled him and simply left him there, feeling like a deflated balloon, wrung out of any life. 

“That’s not what I meant!” Hashirama all but whimpered and Madara flinched, looking rather offended. 

“What are you going on about? We always do it like that...”

Hashirama shook his head frantically at the statement, “Last time was different!”

“What? What do you mean? How so?”

“You– Madara, you licked my lips…”

It felt so refreshing to finally say the thing that had been distracting him for what felt like ages, but in front of him, Madara looked so utterly lost, as if the words refused to register inside his head. Did he really not remember? It hadn’t even been that long ago. 

Realization suddenly fell over Madara's features and he fumbled with his words, all the while an embarrassed blush crept up his neck to rest on the bridge of his nose.

“I– That wasn't– I did that to mess with you! I was just trying to get a laugh by grossing you out! I didn't… think you'd actually like it,” 

Hashirama wasn't surprised at hearing that but still wanted to break into a laughing fit. Of course Madara had done it only to fool around and get some fun out of it. 

“Well... It felt pretty nice…” Hashirama confessed, nervously twirling a strand of hair by his ear, “So… Do it again? Please?” 

“Why would you ask for something like that from me!? It's not like I'm an expert about those things...”

“Who else am I supposed to ask then?” 

Madara scoffed, his blush deepening in the cutest way ever, and Hashirama shuffled in closer to him, knowing he had won this little argument.

“Fine,” Taking a hold of his other palm, Madara complied, “But I… I've never done anything like this before…” 

Hashirama gave his knuckles a comforting squeeze, after all, they were on the same page, “Well… We can figure it out together,” he said and Madara flashed him a rather shy yet confident grin. 

Feeling as giddy as if he was going through the experience of his first kiss all over again, Hashirama closed his eyes and let himself be kissed by Madara. His tense posture loosened when he heard him let out a faint sigh against his lips and felt a heavy hand lay on his shoulder. Just knowing Madara was getting relaxed was more than enough to calm Hashirama's own raging nerves down as well.

Soon enough, he felt the tip of Madara's tongue trace the seam of his lips and for an agonizing moment, Hashirama was left clueless as to what to do next.

Tentatively, he did the first thing that crossed his mind and parted his mouth slightly. 

That first brush of Madara's tongue inside his mouth was entirely new, fascinating, and the most intimate gesture he'd ever received in all of his fourteen years of existence. Madara's hand moved from where it rested on his shoulder to instead comb through his hair and his other arm wrapped around his waist to bring their upper bodies flushed together. 

Hashirama's heart swelled with all of these newly discovered sensations Madara's touch was stirring within him. He felt so loved and cared for and Madara tasted so familiar and pure, like freshly brewed white tea. Like home. 

What followed was a blur of the messiest, wettest, and yet, most delightful series of kisses he'd ever shared with the person who he had given all of his affection to a long time ago. 

The lack of oxygen was beginning to weight on his lungs, but in all honesty, Hashirama wouldn't mind dying by asphyxia. Not when it was Madara the one stealing his breath away, not while he was holding him so impossibly close. He would gladly take it and die in his arms as the happiest person to have ever lived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first open mouth kiss was the grossest thing ever I wish it never happened 😂
> 
> I've been active a lot [here](https://twitter.com/Can56698674) so idk, come give me a holler ✌


	8. Fallen Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One cold night, Madara takes Hashirama star gazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a little warm up I wrote for an even longer chapter I am currently writing but i liked the prompt too much to not post it :'3
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you sure they're showing up tonight too?” 

“Yeah, anytime now,” 

“We're so lucky the sky is clear then! Yesterday was such a big let down” 

Madara nodded, the cool grass under his head crumpling with the motion. They had met last night as well but to their biggest disappointment, a large amount of heavy clouds had covered the entirety of the sky, not leaving even the smallest of stars be visible throughout the whole night. As Hashirama had mentioned, today had been their lucky shot. It was also the last day sightings of shooting stars would manifest for a long while. 

"How did you know there were going to be falling stars these days?” Hashirama asked, his eyes set on the twinkling darkness above them. 

“Some elders in my clan told me,” 

“Wow… They must be pretty smart old people. I had no idea, if I knew I would've told you,” 

“Yeah well, with that empty head of yours I'm not surprised you didn't know,” Madara teased, bringing both arms to use as a pillow under his head. 

“That was mean!” Hashirama pouted and immediately attacked Madara's exposed sides with deft fingers, tickling him until he squirmed and cried between chuckles. Stopping only until Hashirama got the apology he deserved. 

They quickly settled down again, calmly breathing in tune as they continued their hunt for the so awaited shooting stars, the crickets around them now chirping louder to make up for the disturbance they had caused with their ecstatic rounds of laughter. 

“Whoever sees a falling star first wins!” Hashirama challenged, his brown eyes attentively inspecting every inch of sky. 

Madara raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Again with the betting? What are we betting for this time?” 

Last time Hashirama had won a challenge he had asked for what was inside his pockets, which hadn't been that much to brag about, only some coins and a piece of beeswax. 

“The same as the other day, whatever we want from the other,” 

“Then get ready to give me what you've got in your pockets 'cause I'm going to beat you this time,” Madara exclaimed, squinting as he let his searching eyes roam frantically over the vast sky. 

They went silent for a long while, full attention fixed into finding that first star, hidden somewhere in between all the scattered ones. 

“Over there, look! Did you see it!?” 

Rapidly shifting his gaze to where Hashirama was pointing at, Madara scowled at the evidence of stardust left behind by the shooting star that had certainly just passed. 

With a resigned breath, he accepted his defeat, “Fiineee, you win again. What do you want this time?” he grumbled out, becoming slightly concerned by the growing eagerness twisting Hashirama's face, “I've got nothing on me so don't get your expectations too high,” 

“I want a kiss,” Hashirama said, grinning cheekily. 

“I… I kissed you yesterday…” 

“That was more than twenty-four hours ago! Plus, this is my prize, you have to respect the rules,” 

“What rules? There are no rules! You just come up with things you randomly want,” 

“Not the point!” Hashirama conveniently brushed the comment aside —although it was pretty much true— and wiggled on his back until their shoulders were pressing firmly, side by side, “Kiss, please,” 

Knowing how strange Hashirama tended to be at times, a simple kiss was not much to fret over, if he wanted to, he could've asked for something way more extravagant. 

Swallowing down the traces of his emerging embarrassment, Madara tilted his head forward and planted a short-lived kiss on Hashirama's warm cheek, smirking at the unsatisfied pout taking over his silly face after he pulled away. 

“Madara… you know what I wanted…”

“And that's exactly what you got. You never specified what type of kiss you meant,” 

“It's not like you don't–” Hashirama cut his complaint short with a gasp, noticing more stars following after that very first one, all of them glinting vividly from above, “–Madara! Look at the sky, there are more!” 

In mere seconds, the once pitch dark sky had turned into a dazzling canvas of falling stars. It was truly a show to behold, and Madara felt so glad to have brought Hashirama along with him. If he had come to see it all by himself, he was positive he wouldn't have enjoyed it as much. 

“I've never seen so many at the same time,” 

“They're so pretty…” Hashirama marvelled, curling his fingers around the hand resting on Madara's stomach, feeling a shiver crawl along his skin at the unexpected cool contact, “Are you cold? Your hands are really cold,” 

Madara merely shrugged his shoulders. Even though it was often scorching hot during the day, the temperature would get cold enough to be unpleasant once far into the late hours of the night.

The lack of verbal response had apparently been the cue Hashirama needed to strip off his haori. Madara watched in amusement as Hashirama struggled to fit both of them under the piece of clothing. Puffing out a chuckle, he finally took pity on him and helped by pulling him half on top of his torso, in a way where both could be covered from the crisp air but still manage to face up toward the sky. 

“Thanks for taking me here tonight,” Hashirama mumbled, soft and quiet, and rubbed his cheek affectionately against Madara's chin, thoroughly captivated by the beauty of the stars, “You always show me the best things ever,” 

Madara didn't say anything, perhaps because his heart had skipped a tiny beat and left him momentarily breathless, perhaps because he was enjoying himself too much to take a moment to go look for words that weren't really necessary. 

The stars continued racing across the sky, speckling trails of light on their way, and he let himself get lost in the sight, soaking in the warmth of Hashirama's embrace, tightening the hold he had around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooff my harttt. 
> 
> You'll find me gushing about these babes here on [twottr](https://twitter.com/Canchuon)
> 
> Thanks for the comments and kudos, yall very nice 🥰


	9. Not a Compliment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9: Hashirama expects to hear something positive about his looks from Madara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise btch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me >:)
> 
> Sorry I had a writing breakdown but I'm back

Almost everyday Hashirama learned something new about Madara and finding out new little things about him in such casual ways always took him by surprise. He came to the realization then, that he had spent a good while under the impression that by now he knew pretty much everything about him. Which, proven now, was an entirely hasty assumption. 

“Your hair is so close to being long enough to fit into a full braid,” Madara noted from behind Hashirama, drawing his attention back to the fingers carding gently along his scalp, “A very short one though,” 

Hashirama slid his lower back further onto the mossy ground and let his elbows rest over Madara's bent knees, making it easier for him to reach the back of his head “Try doing one, please,”

Madara got to work on his hair immediately, brushing loose a few knots before braiding the three strands he had separated the hair into. 

So as to not disturb him, Hashirama kept his posture as still as possible and marvelled at his new discovery: Madara was surprisingly good at styling hair. From the simplest pigtails that would keep hair tied back to the most intricate braids that left Hashirama wondering how they didn't just become one big knot during the process. He recalled Madara still had a mother so it was likely he had learned from her. Perhaps he should ask him later. 

“Done, don't move around too much or it'll fall apart,” 

Bringing an eager hand up to his head, Hashirama swept over the patterns of the braid with his fingertips, finding odd satisfaction on how smooth his hair felt at the sides, “You really are good at this! So? How do I look?” 

“Mm, it's alright,” Madara’s breath faltered, catching up to what he’d just said. He had to watch his wording since even the slightest thing coming close to a compliment would have Hashirama’s ego swelling to no end, “I mean, well, it’s better than that hideous bowl cut you had before,”

Hashirama deflated on himself, whatever trace of joy he had been basking in moments ago now punched out of his being, “Was it really that bad?” 

“Yeah, ridiculous,” Madara nodded with mirth, then squirmed backwards, pushing Hashirama away from where he sat between his legs. Had he gone too far? Hashirama was pouting miserably, he looked so rejected Madara feared he’d start crying if he dared to mutter the wrong words, “Uh… I, um, like your grown hair,” 

After hearing such a claim, Hashirama was back in good spirits, springing back to life as if he had not been grovelling less than a minute ago. He rarely had other people giving him compliments and Madara never humoured him either, at least not in such a direct, intentional way, it was really something he could get to hear only once in a lifetime. He spun around and settled onto his knees with a movement so hurried and so fuelled by excitement that his hair came loose, framing either side of his face, “So… you think I’m handsome now?” he asked, stroking a long strand of hair by his chin, rather nervous and a bit embarrassed to hear what the other boy would say about his looks.

“N-No! When did I ever say that!?” Madara shook his head, a scandalized blush covering the entirety of his face, “You just… look not so ugly now,” 

_ That  _ was definitely not what Hashirama was expecting to hear. Knowing Madara, he wondered why he’d let himself expect anything remotely close to praise coming from him. If this was how he delivered compliments he had to give him the credit for at least trying. His posture sagged but he smiled wearily at the expression scrunching Madara’s face up. At least he had gotten to see Madara get all grumpy and flustered; he always looked cute like that. A thought he was smart enough to know he should keep to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madara: DO NOT COMPLIMENT HE'S TOO SILLY  
> Madara one second later: lamely compliments anyway bc he can't bear making hashi feel bad lolol  
> Also, hc that Madara has always thought Hashi with his bowlcut looked cute af. fight me on this!


End file.
